Just Breathe
by Eleture
Summary: The day Blaine met Kurt was the day his life as he knew it changed. Kurt is given the chance to see what might have been if not for that chance meeting. The answer is not one he wants to hear. Blangst. The "Ghost of Glee, Actually" pays a visit to Kurt. Blangst. Angst all round really. TW: suicide, selfharm, bullying. Written for a prompt on Tumblr.


Based off the prompt from bye-bye-blainey on tumblr.

Summary: They day Blaine met Kurt was the day his life as he knew it changed. Kurt is given the chance to see what might have been if not for that chance meeting. The answer is not one he wants to hear. Blangst. The "Ghost of Glee, Actually" pays a visit to Kurt.

TW: Self-harm, implied homophobia, suicide.

A/N: This isn't exactly a match for the prompt, because I left a lot of the details out, but it's similar enough. (Exactly the same plot though). Fic named after the song "Just Breathe" by Anna Nalick, which has nothing to do with this except it's kind of how I feel right now. : )

**Just Breathe **

Kurt is drunk?

Someone has spiked his mocha?

He's fallen and Rachel will find his concussed body in a few minutes?

He's dreaming?

With a groan he sits up and finds Rory still standing over him with bright eyes and a sad smile.

"I'm going to wake up now." He tells the room at large; he's not talking to Rory because Rory is in Ireland and _not _in his New York apartment. This sort of thing doesn't happen to people who are quietly minding their own business in their own homes.

"No you're not." Rory says calmly and pulls him to his feet. "Not for another few hours anyway."

"Not that I'm not impressed with the whole ghostly apparition thing you've got going on, but why are you here Rory?" Kurt looks back at his bed wistfully.

"I'm here as a favour to someone."

_Oh good, he's being mysterious. _

"You know Christmas was last week, don't you? Aren't you a bit late for the whole Ghost of Christmas Past thing?" Kurt is pretty sure this is the strangest dream he's ever had.

"I am what I am." Rory carries on, "and I'm here to help you with something."

"Oh good." This is fantastic. Kurt is meant to be at work in an hour and instead he's going insane.

"I promised someone I'd show you something."

"And if I don't want to see it?"

"You don't." Rory's eyes fix on him, "That's sort of the point."

_You don't want to see it. _

Kurt glances back at the bed longingly, but he trusts Rory, at least on some level. "Okay." He can't deny his curiosity is peaking, and credit where credit's due: his imagination deserves an award for this dream.

Rory moves closer and wraps his hand around Kurt's forearm. "Close your eyes."

.-.-.-.

He's standing in the hallway of a school, it's quiet. Empty. The tapping of a flagpole can be heard outside. Kurt reaches out for Rory, but he's alone. Alone in a place he's never been before.

"Hello?" He calls out. "Is anyone there?"

His footsteps echo across the floor as he moves to his right, following the lockers, trailing his fingers along the cool metal. This place is foreign, but there's a familiar presence to it.

A sharp intake of breath makes him pause.

"Hello?"

A sob. Someone is crying. Kurt spins around, looking for the source of the noise.

There it is again. He speeds up, searching until he finds the door to the male bathrooms. Leaning on it carefully, he pushes it open.

A fourteen year old boy sits on the floor of the first stall, face pressed into his knees, shoulders shaking.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asks gently, reaches a hand to offer something. Offer what? Anything. Comfort. Hope. _Company._

His hand slides right through the boy's shoulder, and the child – he is a child – doesn't respond, instead he reaches for the bag at his feet and Kurt tracks his fingers carefully, wondering what's happening. What is he seeing?

"No, please not again." The boy whimpers, fingers tug at the zippers, but it's tied together with a thing cord, knotted tightly. The boy's fingers tug at it furiously. "Please, I need – I need this, please."

The bag remains shut, closed off. The boy sobs again, and in lieu of his prize, what-ever it is he needs from his bag, he pulls his sweat-shirt sleeves up and reveals dark red lines criss-crossing his skin. Fresh. New.

Fingernails slide under the barely healed skin and pull until dark beads draw themselves to the light.

The boy breathes a sigh of relief.

"Stop." Kurt whispers, grabbing at hands he can't hold. "Please, don't do this to yourself."

He tears his eyes away from the sweet red skin and studies his companion. Cheeks flushed, hair curly and free, eyes burning with tears. He knows this face.

"_Blaine?_"

-.-.-.-

He's back in the hallway, but it's crowded. His eyes dart around. "What's going on here?" He calls out. "Rory, where are you?"

"Hey Blainers!"

"Aw, we only wanna talk to you!"

Kurt spins around, his tiny ex-boyfriend, before he was his boyfriend, is pushing his way through the students, head down.

He follows immediately, "Blaine! Stop!" This isn't the Blaine he knows.

_What is going on!?_

The curly-hair boy meekly enters the classroom and sits at the front. He takes out his notes and starts to write. Quietly, Kurt follows, he waits a moment, wonders why this is a moment he needs to see, and where the _hell _is Rory?

Nothing changes. Blaine just sits and writes.

Kurt leans over him and looks at the words.

_I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. _

Blaine had beautiful penmanship, even then. Kurt heaves a deep breath and looks back at the page.

_I want to die. _

"Blaine, no..."

Tears well up in his eyes, because he wants nothing more than to reach out and hold the broken boy before him.

-.-.-.-

Kurt wants to hit something, "RORY? Get your ghostly ass down here!" He spins around, the floor shifts under his feet. Then there's Blaine again, sitting in his Dalton dorm room. This is the Blaine Kurt knows, with gelled hair and pristine clothes.

Or, it would be, if he didn't have wide eyes and a cast on his arm. Bruises litter his cheeks. "Please Mama?" Blaine has the phone pressed against his cheek, his face hopeful.

"No Blaine, we don't want you here. You need to be at Dalton, where it's safe." Her voice is loud enough for Kurt to hear through the connection.

"Oh. Yeh."

"I have to go Blaine, I have a meeting."

"I love-." The dial tone sounds. Blaine sighs and hangs the phone up. "-you."

-.-.-.-

"Dalton was safe."

Kurt ducks his head as they watch Blaine move through a Warbler's practice with ease and smiles. He turns to Rory, who stands beside him with a sad smile.

"But it wasn't home."

Rory gestures to Blaine, watching the other boys laugh rowdily over something, some joke.

"He missed a lot of their social events because he had to catch up with classes, he only heard about the good times second-hand."

The other boys are talking loudly, laughing. Blaine smiles politely, but it's clear he doesn't understand.

"He never really felt at home there because he was just pretending."

Kurt watches his ex-boyfriend closely. Blaine is composed and sweet and confidant, but he doesn't make cute little dance moves or express everything with his adorable eyebrows, his smile doesn't reach his eyes. Kurt had never noticed how much Blaine had really changed since their first meeting on the staircase.

"This is why he sat down one day, and wrote a letter." Rory nudges Kurt through the door, and they find themselves at Blaine's desk, the dorm-room is quiet.

_9 November 2010, 5.15pm_

_I'm sorry. I tried to be more. I tried. _

_I just can't pretend anymore. _

_It hurts too much. _

Kurt's heart stops beating for a moment. It's a tiny letter, and Blaine looks so much smaller as he sets it on the bedside table and pulls out his pocket-watch. _2.45pm. _

"Please tell me that doesn't mean-?" Kurt's eyes lock onto Rory's, but the other boy simply looks back at Blaine as he smooths his blazer and smiles at his reflect.

"It's almost over." Blaine whispers to the empty room.

"What?" Kurt spins around, his hands cling to Rory's shoulder, "What is happening?"

"Today is the day you were meant to meet Blaine. If you never did, after the performance, he was going to come back here."

The door opens again, and Blaine appears.

"No." Kurt denies, he reaches out to grab his boyfriend who proceeds straight through him without a second's hesitation. "No, please."

Blaine reaches the bathtub, and spins the taps, one at a time.

"Blaine." He's hands grasp at his boyfriend as Blaine slowly, methodically, pulls his blazer off and folds it. The newly healing scars on his arms glitter in the light. Kurt knows them all, has seen them before and brushed his fingers down each one.

Blaine had explained that the Sadie Hawkins had left him in a dark place. He'd never said how dark.

"Tell me he's not?" Kurt begs Rory, "Please!"

When did he start crying? He doesn't remember crying.

Blaine pauses as he sets the blazer on the toilet lid, and then turns to the cabinet and grasps the bottle of pills. Silently, he tips his head back and pours them between his waiting lips.

Kurt's lips quiver, a pitched whine escapes his lips. _Not Blaine. _

His hands ghost over the white shirt as Blaine sets the tie above the blazer, and then pulls it off. The pants follow. Carefully, the pile is set just right. Blazer. Pants. Shirt. Tie.

Kurt chokes. "Baby, Blaine?" _No. No. No. No. No _

The water barely ripples as Blaine slips into the tub, wearing only his boxer-shorts.

They wait.

"Blaine?"

A moment of silence answers him, Blaine's lips tug up into a ghost of a smile, eye lids fluttering slightly.

Kurt is sure he's going choke on his own breath.

"No, Blaine, no!" Kurt's hands reach out, trying to gain purchase on Blaine's scarred arms. "You promised!"

Kurt can't shout, the words won't come out.

"Promised you'd be here."

"You have to breathe!"

_Breathe._

Kurt isn't sure he remembers how to.

Blaine's spin slackens, he drifts in the water, and then slowly, like a dream melting from his mind, Kurt watches the love of his life slip beneath the surface and away from reach.

It's too much. Too much. He reaches again, tries to pull Blaine away but he can't. All he achieves is more frustration, more tears.

"Help him Rory!" Kurt begs as he clutches his Irish friend. "HELP HIM!"

_Save him. Help him. _

"Do _something!" _

"I can't." Rory whispers. "We can't."

His body is shuddering under the weight of his sobs. Wracking his body, driving him to the floor. He can't breathe.

"Without you, Blaine dies."

-.-.-.-

It might have been hours that Kurt sat there, dying with Blaine. They don't move and no one comes to save them. The scene fades away, and Kurt simply sits, stares blankly at the wall.

"Why? Why did you show me this?" He begs.

"So I could show you this," Rory whispers, and there they are, watching Blaine fold the letter on the table and turn away.

_2.15pm. _

Blaine leaves, following the familiar halls. Kurt follows in a fog, eyes wide, brain not processing. He can't think about this. He _can't. _It's not going to happen. He knows Blaine, this isn't him. It's not.

Blaine is so focused on his path he doesn't stop, not until a hand falls on his shoulder.

"Excuse me? I'm new here."

It's relief, sweet, mesmerising relief. Blaine didn't do it. He won't. Kurt has never loved himself more.

Oh God. He hates himself. How did he never notice more than the scars on Blaine's arms? There's a pain he clearly tries so hard to hide.

"Blaine?" His voice cracks.

"This is why we came," Rory says calmly, "to see what could have been."

"He – he kept checking his watch that whole afternoon." Kurt whispers. "He said he had something to do."

"Yes."

"I begged him to talk with me, to help me."

"Yes."

"I didn't leave for Lima until six." Kurt rounds on Rory, who glances to his left, and Blaine appears through a doorway that wasn't there a moment ago. He has a smile on his lips. The boy flops on the bed and grins at his phone, before firing away a quick text.

Kurt remembers it well. It said: _call me anytime, Kurt._

Blaine throws the phone to the side of the bed, and with a giddy laugh sits up. Then he pauses, his eyes rest on the note folded on the table, sitting innocently there.

He reaches out and reads it again, running his fingers over the words. "Not today." Blaine whispers. "Not yet." Then he tears it into four even parts and lets the paper flutter into the bin.

His phone buzzes and the bed and Blaine turns back to it.

Kurt knows the message. _Thanks for everything Blaine. _

He also knows the reply.

_I'm here for you Kurt. _

He just never realised what it meant.

-.-.-.-

He wakes up to the early morning light filtering through the curtains. His pillow is wet with tears, fingers clenched into the blankets like it's a lifeline.

It is.

He takes a deep breath, lets this moment fill him.

Just breathe.

He waits for a second, and then rolls over and grabs his phone. It rings twice before a sleepy reply comes down the line. "Kurt? S'early, you okay?"

"I love you, Blaine."

And he knows in that moment that it's true.

- Fin -


End file.
